


scraped knees and battle scars

by LoserEddie



Category: Wet Hot American Summer (2001)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, yeah this fic is uh . Dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 02:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30149061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoserEddie/pseuds/LoserEddie
Summary: ben thought it had been only an hour- it was three. three hours spent staring at the mirror, despising every inch of his reflection until he could no longer stand the sight.- - - - -ben is havin a Rough Day. aka; i project on characters to cope with intrusive thoughts
Relationships: Ben/Waldorf Beauregard McKinley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	scraped knees and battle scars

god, this was bad. really,  _ REALLY _ bad. not the “fun” bad, that started disastrous but ended in some high-budget film way. it was just good old-fashioned horrible. ben stared at his arms, the line between blood and skin becoming as fuzzy as his vision. the shard of glass finally fell from his shaking grasp as his back slammed against the wall. he could only manage one last glance at the cracked mirror’s reflection before he slumped to the ground. 

ben had never been in any sort of natural disaster, but the well-known phrase was the only thing to describe what he felt:  _ the calm before the storm _ . it was like, for lack of a better term, being high. not even his own thoughts could be heard, only the distant chirps of crickets and gentle buzzing from the singular bathroom light bulb. a broken window allowed for cold air to come pouring in like a waterfall, running through ben’s body as he clutched his arm. peace,  _ calm- _

then chaos.

he had never screamed louder in his life. choked sobs and desperate gasps for air replaced the ambience of camp firewood. the breeze had turned to stale nothingness that rebelled against his lungs. barely stable, he held onto his legs and buried his head, pleading to just wake up from this  _ stupid _ nightmare already. the wooden door pounding the wall made it all become a bitter reality. 

something grabbed him- he didn’t even know what the threat could be, he just knew it was a  _ threat _ , and he had to  _ avoid _ it. he tried to shift himself farther from the door, screaming at the hot pain that suddenly shot through his arm. he feverishly wiped the tears from his eyes, trying to make out faces beyond his blurred vision.

“ben-  _ ben _ , just focus on me,  _ okay _ ?” 

he couldn’t even focus on  _ himself _ . the world was spinning like an out-of-control teacup ride, and he’d do anything to hop off. fuck, that’s what he should have done: he should have dug that glass shard right through his heart. that would have saved him, and everyone else, a whole lot of trouble.

“what happened?-  _ did _ something happen?”

well, he was on the  _ floor _ covered in  _ blood _ ; either he had walked in that way, or yes, something  _ did _ indeed happen. though his mind remained in a thick fog, ben could at least confirm that he wasn’t simply just having some bathroom fun. he tried to hide his arm behind his back, only resulting in another sharp yelp as the tears continued to overflow. it was yanked in front of him in an instant. ben’s ears began to ring.

he was going to die. it wasn’t a question, he just knew it.  _ he was going to fucking die _ . the shabby lightbulb had become a harsh beacon as it fused with the blood fleeing each cut. his heart was in his head now, the never-ending thumping pounded against his skull. he shrunk farther into himself. none of this would go away, hidden from the world or otherwise. it felt like a hammer smashing against his chest until it shattered. the pain leading up to the eruption was, oddly, the worst of it. death itself was painless- the process was not.

“we need to get him to the nurse,” the voices were back, seeming to come from miles away. he tried to ignore the distant chatter that only made the situation become more than a twisted nightmare. 

“the dude’s freaking out!”

“he’s right- ben’s all primal, he could attack us.”

“guys, jesus christ. yeah, he’s primal, but he’s also our friend!”

was this astral projection? probably not, ben acknowledged, but it was the only accurate description. he wasn’t himself- he wasn’t  _ anything _ ; just the last remaining bits of consciousness fleeing its human form. he was floating, not in the usual calm way that’s described in those cheesy romance books he read, like when the protagonist finally realised their overwhelming affection for the obvious love interest. it felt more like space- the real kind. the lack of oxygen, control, and feeling that nobody had lived to share the tale of. 

then, an anvil-type weight threw him back into his body. the noises flooded in all at once, blaring compared to the once dull buzz of his mind. something rested on his shoulder; warm, gentle, that  _ had _ to be mckinley.  _ god _ , of course  _ mckinley _ had to see him like this. their relationship had so steadily progressed, they had been so happy together... then ben had to up and  _ ruin _ it.

“ben, look at me.”

through blurry vision, ben brought his gaze to mckinley’s, wiping some of his stray tears with his uninjured hand. he must’ve looked disgusting, even  _ without _ the blood. he was such a fucking  _ moron _ .

“it’s gonna be okay,” even with his hearing still slightly impaired, he could hear the shaking in mckinley’s voice that he did his best to hide. that only made him want to cry harder, if it was possible, “you’re gonna be alright, i promise.  _ just- _ just keep your eyes open, and try to focus on my voice, okay?”

considering it was the only thing he  _ could _ focus on, ben hardly struggled with the rather simple task. carried by mckinley, he continued to talk to him, sniffling but still trying to smile as he discussed dumb shit like their plans for the week and how much the campers missed him. ben thought it had been only an hour- it was three. three hours spent staring at the mirror, despising every inch of his reflection until he could no longer stand the sight.

somewhere along the way, he  _ did _ fall asleep - something he’d feel guilty for even  _ years _ after. he could only assume how panicked the others had gotten. it was actually susie that had found him, with coop, gary, and j.j. following close behind. mckinley only showed up once he heard the ruckus.  _ fuck _ , that only made it worse. if he weren’t so  _ god damn _ loud, mckinley wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.

once again, ben was greeted with a harsh light, trying to blink away the burn in his eyes as he sat up. he turned to his arm; wrapped, but no cast. some of the blood had managed to seep through the bandages, not to mention the vast amount staining his clothes. he quickly averted his gaze to the clock:  _ two _ ? he looked out the window, then back again. jesus  _ fuck _ , it was  _ two am _ . how long had he been causing a damn ruckus?

only a few lamps remained in the infirmary, lighting the way to the mini fridge and the exit. ben decided to treat himself to an ice cream bar, first. his throat hurt,  _ bad _ , and the ice cream only felt like it was making it worse, but the smallest treat still helped. he ran his hand along his neck and flinched as his fingers grazed over a fresh bruise. that, strangely enough, was what had made it all truly  _ real _ . even the events from before could be excused as a nightmare, but this? this was genuine. before he knew it, the ice cream was nothing but a stick; seems time hadn’t caught on as quickly as reality did.

“ben?”

ben snapped his head towards the row of chairs that lined the wall. there sat mckinley, stretching as he pulled himself upwards in the seat. his shoulders drooped.

“god, babe, i’m sorry,” he wasn’t going to cry again- he couldn’t. quite literally; he was pretty sure if he even dared to sob he’d hack up a lung, “i didn’t... think, i guess.”

“don’t apologise, seriously, i’m just glad you’re okay- i thought we were fucking losing you, ben,” he stood.

“i, uh, never knew an arm could bleed that much- i didn’t mean to make it a big deal. i just thought i could...  _ deal _ with it, then be fine.”

“i love you, but god, you’re a dumbass sometimes,” he wrapped his arms around ben’s neck and rolled his eyes, “i mean, you really think we wouldn’t catch on? you can’t just  _ limp _ out of the bathroom with new  _ red _ clothes.”

ben softly smiled, “yeah, it was fucking stupid. it won’t happen again, i’m seri-“

“ _ ben _ .”

“...it won’t be that bad next time. you won’t even  _ notice _ .”

“jesus, honey, don’t you realise i  _ want _ to notice? i want to help you, you can’t just  _ hide _ these things. you were lucky this time.”

“i don’t wanna worry you.”

“it’s my job to worry about you. you’re my boyfriend, and i love you more than anything.”

ben didn’t get the chance to defend his point- just as he went to respond, mckinley’s lips collided with his own. he ran a hand through his dark hair as the other lazily wrapped around his back. when they finally parted, ben sighed.

“geez,  _ okay _ , let’s make a deal: i’ll tell you when it happens, as long as you don’t act- like-  _ crazy _ about it.”

mckinley scoffed, “so you’re just  _ asking _ me to watch you die?” 

“well,  _ no- _ “

“alright, let’s make it even. you tell me when you do it, and when you have the urges-“

“ _ hey _ !-“

“-don’t interrupt, it’s  _ rude _ \- so you’ll tell me, and i won’t flip like i did before. i’ll just,  _ bandage _ you up and we can talk about it if you’re comfortable. i mean, i can’t force you to just  _ stop _ . i know shit doesn’t work like that.”

  
“sometimes your concern can be a real pain in the ass, dear,” ben nuzzled into mckinley’s chest, “ _ fine _ . you have a deal.”


End file.
